


He's Guilty As Can Be

by Chaerring



Series: The Avengers Are Evil, But Still Themselves [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bruce and the Hulk get along, Bruce is not sweet, Bruce pov, Darcy POV, F/M, Foul Language and I do mean FOUL, Gen, No really they do, The Avengers are Villains, This is not healthy, but they're still them, dark themes, humorous themes, they might be evil, what am I writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:26:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaerring/pseuds/Chaerring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy hires on as an Avengers' henchwoman. She should have read the fine print of her contract. She might not have signed it if she knew they were going to use her to break the Hulk out of prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting In

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
> 
> Thank you so much to TheGreatSporkWielder for beta-ing and putting up with my plot tribbles. Apparently, I've graduated to "Being burdened with the glorious purpose of writing all the AU fics".
> 
> The title comes from the song that inspired this fic: "Please Mister Jailer" from the slightly old movie, Crybaby.

Darcy pulled her sweatshirt sleeves down to covers her hands and shivered. Apparently, they kept the Hulk's prison freezing. She knew it had something to do with heart rate and blood flow being slower in extreme cold, but she really wished she could have worn a heavier jacket. Of course, as Steve and Tony had emphasized again and again, anything that smacked of prior knowledge would end up with her in a neighboring cell to the Hulk, not succeeding in busting him out. 

If Darcy had known that her first objective in her new job would be to break a monster out of one of the most secure prisons on the planet, she probably wouldn't have signed on with the Avengers. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself while she was waiting for _five fucking hours_ to get her identity as Bruce Banner's cousin confirmed. It was the longest fucking wait she'd ever had in her life. It was longer than finding out whether or not she got into a university, and longer than the fucking line to ride Space Mountain at Disney World. How hard could it really be to find all the forged records Tony had made with his awesome A.I.'s help? 

Darcy tried to stay focused on the task at hand, though, even after they _took her fucking ipod_. Natasha had warned her about shit like that and trained her for a whole damn month on tricks to keep her mind occupied so she didn't crack under the pressure of sitting in an interrogation room in a high-security facility surrounded by an army of America's boldest and bravest. They were looking for cracks in her persona. Anything to even suggest to them she wasn't Bruce Banner's only living relative. Her cover story was helped immensely by the fact that Bruce's dad was a fucking dick, according to the file JARVIS had generously showed her. The man had cut Bruce's mom off from her family, which sucked horribly for Rebecca and Bruce, but in the end worked out awesomely for Darcy, because her hair was dark enough and curly enough that she could actually be Bruce's estranged cousin come to visit her only living relative, even if he was a convicted mass murderer.

Instead of focusing on the fact that (according to Natasha) she had probably no less than three highly trained doctorate holding profilers watching her from cameras and the one-way mirror covering the far wall, Darcy attempted to focus on what the rest of her day was supposed to go like. She'd been searched from head to toe, even stripped down and given a set of itchy scrub-like flimsy garments to change into because of the height of security in this place. Jesus Christ, it wasn't like the Hulk was Magneto or something. The only good thing about the itchy thin material was that her nipples stuck out in the cold air like the hard, round protruding rocks of a teddy bear's eyes and she was able to coerce one of the weaker willed guards to give her back her sweatshirt.

None of that mattered though, because the key part of the Avengers' plan hadn't been about her clothing or anything she was carrying. It was about the tracker they had implanted on the inside of her thigh _not even three fucking inches from her cunt_. When they first brought it up in the planning stages she was a part of, she’d protested loudly until that _bitch_ Pepper had whipped out her hiring contract and pointed out the fine print, saying Darcy had signed away the rights to her body. The contract wouldn't work in an American court, of course, but it would work just fine in the numerous smaller countries the Avengers were practically gods in. Ridiculously, Steve had babbled away about Darcy not needing to worry about prostitution or them selling her unless it was an emergency because, apparently, Natasha liked to handle all of those problems on her own and Tony had backed him up by saying if there was an emergency she would be handsomely compensated. The reigning consensus, however, was that they could put whatever piece of metal or plastic they wanted inside her thigh and she couldn't object a bit.

The aftermath had hurt like a bitch. Jane had laughed and called her a minion, but Darcy got even with her with a liberal application of itching powder to her former boss's underwear drawer. It was only a bonus that Thor's underwear was in there too, and Tony paid her twice as much for that week. The tracker in Darcy's thigh was the important part. She was a little bit superfluous. They could have used any minion with dark hair and the proper age to be the Hulk's cousin. It was just Darcy's sour luck that she happened to know the alien god's girlfriend, and Jane chose that precise moment to recognize their former connection. 

Darcy was about to count a sixth hour when a ridiculously well armed and _armored_ guard came to escort her through what seemed like miles of icy tunnels. She couldn't have kept up with the direction they were going in even if she had been trying; she was pretty damn sure they went in at least three circles. It was a damn good thing Tony had the blueprints already and was tracking her through a map from his armor, feeding the best possible break-in locations to the rest of the team based on her location. 

She and the guard finally neared some terrifyingly huge vault-like doors and her heart sped up in her chest. The racket of its flutter filled her ears until she almost missed the guard finally speaking.

"You have one hour."

Then the doors opened and Darcy nearly panicked. She very nearly turned to the guard and confessed everything. She knew she was imagining things, but she felt like she could tell exactly where the tracker was on the inside of her thigh. She wanted to claw it out and pretend she'd never signed a fucking contract. She didn't want to be a criminal (and maybe that was a lie, because crime had been turning out pretty well so far), but mostly she didn't want to step into a room with a man that had killed nearly two hundred people _that they knew of_ and could squash her like one of those stupid sugar ants that crawled in her old apartment's bathroom.

The guard coughed pointedly and stared ahead at the enormous bundle of chains, visible now that the vault doors had opened. Darcy swallowed her fear and crossed the threshold.


	2. Consorting with the Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy meets Dr. Banner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.
> 
> Thank you so much to TheGreatSporkWielder for beta-ing.
> 
> And thank you very much to everyone who left kudos and comments!

Darcy's footsteps echoed as she crossed the cavernous cell edging closer to the pile of gleaming chains sitting in exactly the center of the space. There was a small cot in the far corner, and some fixtures that may or may not have made a serviceable bathroom. She didn't let her eyes linger on them. The closing of the vault doors behind her sounded like a death knoll that she could feel in her bones. The clanging of the chains as they changed position and a hooded head appearing at the top of them only added to the terrifying atmosphere making Darcy really glad she'd been allowed to use the bathroom during her nearly six hour wait. If she hadn't only God would know what might have actually happened, because Darcy was pretty sure she would have pissed herself when she heard the bolts slide closed behind her and she realized she was locked in.

She was not cut out for this shit. When she thought she'd found the only paying job in New York that she could get without any experience she had leaped at it. She should have put her metaphorical tail between her legs and hauled her ass to Seattle. Nothing horrible ever happened there. Hell, maybe she could have met a vampire and found true love on the other side of the country instead of significantly shortening her lifespan and giving herself gray hairs far before her time by allowing her bosses to put her into life threatening nerve wracking situations.

"Ominous, isn't it?"

Her inner monologue was cut short by Dr. Banner's voice ringing across the cell. It brought Darcy to the realization that she had stopped halfway between him and the door. She took heart in the fact that he seemed more amused than anything else and continued forward until she could drop herself to the floor a short distance away from him. She squinted in the dim light at his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. His head gave a shake and the hood fell back, revealing the fluffiest head of hair she'd ever seen, and brown eyes warmer than the fuzzy feelings Darcy got from sucking slowly on a Dove chocolate and reading its wrapper. Unfortunately, even sitting in front of the Hulk did nothing to help her establish a brain to mouth filter.

"Dear God, you've got eyes like Bambi. How did anyone ever convict you?"

Relief coursed through her when he threw back his head and laughed. It was a sound as warm as his eyes and Darcy really should have held out a little longer before she let her insides melt over it. He looked back down at her with a grin still teasing the corners of his mouth upward and she mentally took back anything she'd said about Bambi. Bambi wasn't sexy, not at all, and apart from the chains Dr. Banner looked like he could have just rolled out of king sized bed filled with the Playboy mansion's best.

"That's a shitty movie, and I wasn't exactly given a trial in front of my peers. I was deemed too much of a threat for a courtroom."

Her mouth dropped open and the political science major part of her rebelled in outrage at his mistreatment, but there was nothing she could do about that so she tackled the part of his statement she _could_ handle. His grin just twitched higher.

"Bambi is not _shitty_. You can't be insulting Disney animated classics!"

Banner shook his head and Darcy's fingers twitched. She desperately wanted to touch that curl wiggling back and forth on his forehead. 

"Not all Disney classics, just Bambi. His mom dies. It's shitty."

Her mind raced through what she'd been allowed to see of his file and she almost flinched again. His dad had killed his mom right in front of him. She could understand why Bambi was shitty in his opinion. Darcy was quickly reminded not to get caught up in her thoughts by the way his grin stretched wider, eerily so in the dim light of the cell, and he kept speaking.

"I've always been partial to Beauty and the Beast, myself. Wonderful music in that movie." 

Dr. Banner's eyes bore into her's and she swallowed feeling suddenly like she was the one chained up and unable to flee. Her heart was racing so hard she was pretty sure the guards outside could hear it, let alone him, but fuck if he wasn't turning her on as well as terrifying her. It didn't help that those fucking cheap scrub things they'd forced her to wear were rubbing up against her breast and thighs. Apparently, under wires could be used as lock picks and weapons.

"Y-yeah. I like that one."

He shifted positions and she could finally see that the piles of chains and manacles on him were padded on the inside, and not a single entity like she had assumed, but in fact, separate attachments that just happened to be so large they blurred together in the shitty lighting. She had to fight not to lean backwards when he got a little closer.

"So, what brings a lovely woman like you to my humble abode today?"

Darcy cast a wary eye towards the door and then around the rest of the room looking at the cameras.

"Can they hear us?"

"No. I do have some few rights as a citizen of the grand old U.S. of A., but there are likely lip readers. You should also know, they can't open that vault door again for..."

He trailed off a moment, event though his lips kept moving, counting she assumed.

"26 minutes and 15 seconds, give or take 5 seconds. It's another security measure."

He grinned again suddenly and leaned further forward, almost, but not quiet in Darcy's personal space. Just when her heart rate was slowing he had to kick it back up again.

"A fairly stupid one considering I could do any number of horribly _unmentionable_ things to you before the door could open again, but I guess they went with the cheaper version of the door and figured anyone stupid enough to visit me deserved their fate."

He did move into her personal space then, and raised a hand with chains trailing after it to touch the end of her hair. She held her breath and watched the tight strain of his forearm, barely visible through the metal links. It was at that moment with Bruce Banner smiling ever so slightly at her, that Darcy realized the ridiculous yards of chains on him weren't doing a damn thing to protect her. They were for simply for show, to make the guards feel better. Otherwise they'd never be able to get _anyone_ to work there. 

Darcy's stomach rolled as her imagination had absolutely no problem conjuring image after image of _horribly unmentionable_ things he could do to her. Only about half of them were involving the proper amount of blood and terror she should have been fearing. The other half involved much less metal and clothing. She started feeling lightheaded and nauseous.

"You should probably breathe. I'm Bruce Banner, by the way, but seeing as you're here, I'm assuming you know that."

Dr. Banner tugged on her hair slightly, in a teasing way, not painful at all, but it was like a switch that got Darcy to inhale and exhale again. She wasn't sure what that said for her sense of self preservation or sanity.

"Don't worry. I'm not into horribly unmentionable things. That's more The Other Guy's style, and I don't fancy giving up my time with a beautiful young woman to him, so you're safe."

His smile got bigger and he retreated a little, giving her back her space before prompting her to continue.

"You were just about to tell me why you're here. I'd let you catch your breath, but we're on a bit of a tight schedule. I'd like to take as much advantage of your company as I can."

Finally done gulping for oxygen, Darcy eyed him warily trying with all her might not to forget how dangerous he was despite the way he continued to smile at her. It really wasn't fair how perfect his smile was. It was the exact opposite of Tony's smirk. He was like a fucking s'more, all beautiful tan skin, fluffy hair like the gooey marshmallow center, and melty chocolate eyes. She was officially going insane. She had to be to be checking out the only inmate residing in the highest security prison in the country. She took a deep breath and smiled back at him resigning herself to making use of her excellent new insurance policy to see a psychiatrist. 

"I'm Darcy Lewis. The Avengers sent me. Those guys out there thought I was your cousin on your mother's side."

 _That_ at least, seemed to startle him.

"What? The Aveng- _Tony_ sent you?"

She nodded a little.

"Yeah. I'm here to bust you out."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow and distantly Darcy could hear sirens start to pierce the air. She winced internally for the soldiers working out there. They were probably going deaf.

"Not that I'm casting aspersions on your abilities, Miss Lewis, but if The Other Guy can't break out of here, what makes you think you can?"

Darcy rolled her eyes a little.

"Okay, so maybe _I'm_ not busting you out. I'm just the locator chip so the team can bust you out. I'm a minion, henchwoman, indentured servant, employee, take your pick of terminology."

He twitched looking upwards briefly with a frown at something she couldn't perceive, then rolled his shoulders under the chains draped under them and gave her another melting smile.

"Are all of the Avengers henchwomen as beautiful as you?"

Darcy did not blush. She honestly didn't. What happened to her face was far too extreme to be considered a blush. She had to been a good match for Tony's armor by the time she was able to answer the question.

"All of Tony's are. Technically, though, I think my contract is currently with Thor."

"I see."

He lifted his arms out in front of him and then rolled his shoulders again, now outright staring up at the ceiling. 

"Did you know moving around in these chains only helped to increase my muscle mass? There isn't much to do in here except exercise. I only get four hours of music a week for entertainment, and the guards don't let me chose what to listen to."

Darcy felt her jaw drop and outrage claw at her chest. Only _four hours_ of music a _week_? She did four hours a day of music at minimum, and he didn't even get to pick his station or selection.

" _That's horrible,_ and those fucking bastards took my ipod too."

She froze when his eyes shot downward from their fixation on the ceiling and seemed to have developed a new fascination with her mouth. Darcy sucked in a breath and decided she should probably refrain from using raunchy language in hearing range of the evil scientist who had been locked up for years and probably hadn't gotten laid in substantially more time than that. There was a small tense silence broken by Dr. Banner when he broke his gaze. She was shocked to see his cheeks darken with a blush. 

She grinned and was about to make a cheeky comment to get back at him for scaring her earlier when suddenly, in one smooth motion he leaped forward bringing all of his chains with him. Darcy didn't even have time to scream before she felt the contrast of his warm body and the cold metal of his restraints covering her. 

Her fear quickly turned to relief when an enormous crash deafened her and the bit of the cell she could see through her hair exploded with dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should say something about this chapter, about this fic in general, but I'm not sure where to start. XD;;
> 
> Um, if anyone has questions I'll answer them as long as I don't think it's too spoiler-ish for later on.


	3. Bargaining for Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce wants Darcy's contract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
> 
> Thank you so much to TheGreatSporkWielder for being my beta. 
> 
> And extra thanks to everyone who has commented and left kudos!

Bruce found it cosmically appropriate that a blue eyed brunette was there to break him out of prison when another one was the very reason he had ended up in prison in the first place. No, that was unfair to Betty. She hadn't provoked or wronged him in any way. Not by conventional standards. It wasn't her fault that he had inherited more than a little of his father's tendency to obsess and overreact. It wasn't her fault at all that she had moved on and he had dwelt on the memory of them, twisting it in his mind and letting it fester until he used their former relationship as the catalyst for his self destruction.

He tucked his nose into Darcy's long hair and inhaled, trying to focus on her rather than the debris hitting his back. She smelled like pomegranates, and the irony of a younger woman lying under him smelling like forbidden fruit wasn't lost on him. Another heavy piece of cement from above connected with his back. He was fairly certain he heard at least one of his ribs crack, and he was positive he had felt more than one. It hurt like a bitch and he was going to turn whoever the fuck thought it was a good idea to bust directly through the ceiling of his into mincemeat as soon as he got the chance. 

It was a fight against the Other Guy to keep control. Bruce didn't battle too fiercely. Instead, he used stalling tactics, promising his other self a fight if he simply waited a little longer. It would work for a while. Hopefully, it would work long enough that Bruce would be able to keep Darcy from getting too banged up. He would hate to see her pale skin marred with red. 

A little late, Bruce noticed that she was holding too still to be healthy, and he drew back slightly to make sure his bindings hadn't damaged something vitally important about her body. Her incredibly soft, warm body that was the warmest thing he'd felt since they'd locked him in his own personal hell. It was extremely difficult not to get distracted by her soft breasts pressed under his chest, especially since it was obvious they guards had confiscated her bra, if she'd even worn one to the prison at all. The thought of her walking around all day without one made him swallow. A particularly painful piece of falling rubble knocked his attention back to the task at hand.

Her blue eyes were looking a little frozen, much like they had earlier when he'd teased her and she'd stopped breathing. Her dark curls had been so soft in his fingers. Soft and silky, just like Betty's hair had been when she let him comb his fingers through it. Certainly nicer than anything he'd been touching recently. Her breasts hadn't pressed any closer against him, or moved away recently. That probably meant something was wrong. 

"You should remember to breathe. I'm less inclined to protect you if you faint."

Bruce couldn't help but laugh a little at her. What sort of person stopped breathing when they were scared? That was the worst way to stay alive. It seemed his comment worked though, if he was reading the pink color appearing in her cheeks and the sudden furious set of her eyebrows correctly. Her mouth opened and he waited patiently to hear what she would say. Even the Other Guy was interested in her. It intrigued Bruce utterly and completely. 

In the sparse days of his relationship with Betty after the lab accident, the Other Guy had taken very little interest in Betty. If Bruce was being honest, the Other Guy only really paid attention to her when they were fighting, and even then it was more that he had an urge to break a major bone or two of hers, not that he was affectionate towards her at all. If he was being doubly honest, and not lying to himself, the Other Guy's lack of interest was a large factor in their break up which allowed her to move on, and sent him spiraling towards high security lock down. 

Darcy Lewis was different. She looked similar enough to Betty in the dim light upon her entrance in only those stupid ill fitting scrubs that Bruce's heart had leaped in his chest when he saw her. He had thought for just one moment that maybe, Betty had come to see him. Then Darcy had come closer and the longer Bruce spent time with her the more he knew that, besides appearance and coloring, the younger woman wasn't much like Betty at all. Darcy's body was shorter and softer beneath his. Betty had been curves contrasting to the angles of her bones, sharp and soft in one package. Darcy was soft all over with a hint of steely muscles beneath. It was an entirely different sort of contrast and Bruce was appreciating it very much. 

As he stared into her too blue eyes, somehow simultaneously warmer and more wary than Betty's had ever been he began to think he might be able to get high off the scent of pomegranates and the feel of their bodies pressed together, despite the chains binding him and interfering with the contact. 

Unfortunately, whatever Darcy was going to respond to his jab with was lost in a metallic sounding grumble.

"Goddammit Bruce, seriously, you couldn't even wait until we got you home? You had to jump her while she was on the clock. Now she's going to ask for her hazard pay and you know what, I'm going to take it out of _your_ funds, not mine. I _just_ bought her contract from Thor. Steve likes her-"

The Other Guy rumbled in the back of his head, voicing his disapproval of Tony's jabbering, but he seemed even more put out by Tony's claim on Darcy. His building annoyance was strange to Bruce considering that before serving time, Tony was one of the few people the Hulk had actively enjoyed spending time with without seeing him in pain. Bruce sighed and prepared to reassess the Other Guy's views on all of his friends. 

He pushed himself off of Darcy reluctantly and pulled her to her feet. He kept a hand around her elbow when she tried to pull away. Neither Bruce nor the Other Guy had any intention of letting her go until they knew exactly where she was going and that she wouldn't be killed or maimed too horribly. A little bit of injury might be interesting to watch, though. Just to see her reaction pain and blood loss. Unless she stopped breathing again; that would be utterly useless and make her dead weight for the escape. The Avengers didn't put up with dead weight very much.

"You'll give me Darcy's contract and talk about things _relevant to my escape_ or I'll be delivering you back to your home as a large red and gold can of tenderized Stark."

Bruce grinned wide and asked for the Other's Guy's help to get just a little taller to make sure his point went through Tony's metal helmet and his even thicker skull. Darcy's small squeak was only a bonus. He watched, feeling satisfied on both levels when the arms of Tony's suit jerked awkwardly in surprise.

"Well, that's a hell of a way to greet the planner of your rescue! You drive a hard bargain, my friend, one we shall talk about in a more convenient location. Say somewhere they don't have an army's worth of elephant tranquilizers waiting for you, and the others aren't desperately providing the government with a distraction?"

The Other Guy laughed and Bruce's chest shook with the rumble, expanding a little further. Like hell Tony planned this. He might have planned the part where he busted in the ceiling and designed the locator chip obviously somewhere under Darcy's skin, but the real master mind behind the Avengers had always been Pepper Potts. Bruce always got the impression that she was an android Tony had created and activated to protect him. If Bruce hadn't accidentally stumbled on her crying once, he still wouldn't quite believe she was human. 

Pepper wasn't there at the moment, though, which put Tony at a distinct disadvantage. If Tony got back to the tower it would take months, if it ever happened at all, for Bruce to get Darcy's contract. None of them were under any illusions about who bankrolled, and therefore controlled, the Avengers in the tower. Here though, in his own cell, Bruce and the Other Guy held a joint kingship and he would have Darcy under their thumb, and no one else's, before they left.

A crash sounded outside and the Other Guy pressed forward, getting impatient. He only allowed Bruce to stall because of their mutual interest in Darcy. The young woman had been surprisingly silent for the past few moments. Bruce looked sideways at her and rubbed his thumb across her soft skin. She was pale, even her full lips were pressed together tight enough to be as white as the rest of her skin. It made her blue eyes stand out like aquamarine jewels. He wished he had a camera to capture how bright they were. Reluctantly, he turned back to Tony's expectant body pose.

"Your word that her contract is mine or we don't leave."

Darcy's head snapped to look at his face, her mouth opening like she was going to speak, but she closed it again without saying a word. Bruce desperately wanted to know what she was thinking, but the Other Guy was quickly taking all of his focus. They were both tired of the cell, had hated it even before they were locked in and now that escape was so close neither one of them was at their most controlled. If he could just get Tony's word, Bruce knew he would have Darcy. It was damned near impossible to get a straight answer out of Tony when he wanted to wriggle out of something, but once Stark gave his word he kept it. Bruce felt like it was one of his more redeeming qualities.

"Bruce, come on man, I stole you a super soldier. The only super soldier! You'll love him. He's like a boy scout, but crazy."

Even through the tinny speaker projecting from the armor, Bruce could hear the way Tony was cracking. Bruce was intrigued by those statements, well aware that his work with gamma rays had been the military's efforts to resurrect the super soldier program from World War Two. However, the Other Guy wasn't interested at all in his creation and decided they were finished arguing. Bruce _growled_ , hard and rumbling from the center of his chest. It was a much larger sound than his chest should have been able to make at that size, but he had long given up trying to figure out how his transformation worked without the proper lab equipment on hand. It only gave him headaches. The growl was effective, though, sending Tony backwards. He could feel Darcy give a full body shudder under his hand on her arm and was briefly distracted by the thought of what else he could do to try to make her shake like that before Tony spoke again.

"Fine! Okay, fine! All yours! Can we just go now?!"

Bruce leaned over to brush his lips across Darcy's forehead, frowning slightly when she flinched. He didn't dwell on it though; instead he stepped away from her, finally releasing her arm. The Other Guy rumbled in satisfaction at the marks already beginning to color her pale skin and Bruce set him loose. 

There was a rush of green, like being pulled under a never ending wave at the beach, before Bruce was able to find the small niche in the back of his own mind reserved for him to sit and observe. Distantly, he felt the Other Guy's satisfaction as her scooped Darcy up in his arms and burst through the hole in the ceiling Tony had already created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, Sporky pointed out that we didn't have real Avengers movie evidence of Bruce being a sweetheart. We did in fact have evidence of him being a touch asshole-ish to Natasha (for good reason, of course). This chapter kind of takes that ten leaps further into supreme creeper territory.


End file.
